


Power of Fate

by ixiepixie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Mild Language, Tumblr: usukustwiceperyear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 00:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixiepixie/pseuds/ixiepixie
Summary: Alfred works at the local power plant, and it's his turn to answer the angry calls during a blackout.





	Power of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for the usukustwiceperyear event, Uncommon Professions. I know this is an odd setup for a power plant but TBH this is how my dad worked in our small ass little town in Ohio, at least as much as i can remember about it. If they DID have a real secretary, I never met them, and I hung around that power station a lot LOL there were so many buttons and knobs in there I wanted to touch but instead I just watched the voltage gauges and the AMP reader move around.

Clear sunny skies, that was the weather forecast for the rest of the week. One would wonder then, why was the power flickering out across town? From the mayor's office to a small hole in the wall tarot reading shop, the town's electrical systems had been compromised. Naturally, this had most of the people who lived in this small town upset. When people get this upset, what do they do? Angrily call the power plant, of course!

Every time the power went out, or a blackout was scheduled, the workers of this small town plant played rock paper scissors to see who would act as secretary for the day. Alfred Jones, one of said workers, was the one who had come up with this system. Normally, he never lost a game of rock paper scissors, but today it seemed that his own luck had reversed. As his coworkers laughed, leaving him by the phones, Alfred cursed his sudden bad luck. Before he even had time to get settled in, the phone was ringing. 

So it begins.

About 30 angry callers in, Alfred was feeling pretty fed up. They soon found out that the power issues were caused by a truck running into a pole and taking it down. It was unfortunate that it happened on a day when they were repairing the generators in their plant, so they didn't have any backup power for the town like normal. Having to explain this to a bunch of unreasonable townsfolk was damn near impossible. Most didn't care why the power was out, they just wanted to know how long it would take to fix. As soon as he mentioned it could take all day, people started with the shouting.

By lunchtime, Al was sure that the whole damn town had called in by now, even the people who were on the outskirts of their power jurisdiction! It was around this time that he got the most interesting call of the day.

“Municipal Power Plant 7427, this is Jones, what can I help you with?” Alfred recited the opening line he had memorized during his last blackout call session. 

He'd only done it once before, and today reminded him exactly why he strove to never lose that game of chance. There was some muffled cursing on the other end of the line, before a very loud and very accented voice began shouting at him. “HONESTLY, I move to this bloody hamlet for some peace and to run my business aiding the rural areas just as my own cards had foretold, yet here I am, sitting in the dark with a customer waiting, yet I can't read their fortunes if I can't see it! Who is in charge over there? I demand answers!”

Well that was new. Alfred had never heard this particular voice before, and as attractive as the accent was, he was simply tired of being yelled at today. “Sir. Sir, please. Calm down. A truck knocked a power line down on the way from our mother plant to this town on a day when we had maintenance scheduled. We can't provide backup power until we finish-"

“I don't care about that! I can use a candle if I need light!” The angry voice continued ranting. “What I absolutely cannot abide is the air conditioning being off! It's too hot to burn candles, and the fan would blow my cards around too much, and I am unable to get any work done until this is solved!”

“I can't help you more than I already am, sir. Either we will finish maintenance, or the larger company will finish repairing the downed line. It's honestly out of my hands.”

Waiting for another shout, Alfred prepared for the worst. It never came. Not because the man had calmed down, mind you. He had either hung up, which was unlikely, or his phone had run out of power. In any case, Alfred felt relieved to be free from the noise for a short time.

That time lasted about five minutes, when someone else decided to call in.

It was a solid few months before Alfred lost the blackout raffle again, his coworkers overjoyed at their revenge on the ‘lucky one’. Twice in one year, that was a new record for Alfred. Thankfully, the Summer heat was dying down, the cool breezes of Autumn taking over in its stead. At least they would get less complaints about air conditioners. The thought alone was enough to remind him of that one angry caller, the one with the alluring accent. Despite not knowing the man, Alfred hadn't been able to get that voice out of his head.

Remembering vague details about how he had a new business in town, Al had asked around. It seemed a proclaimed ‘psychic’ had moved into their little community, and was gaining popularity as their very own local herbalist as well. He sounded interesting, to say the least, even if Alfred didn't believe in all that fortune telling magic mumbo jumbo.

It wasn't long, however, before Alfred didn't have any time to think at all. Calls came flooding in, people shouting at him for a good half of the day. Once again, right around lunch time, the phone rang and a familiar accent blasted through the speakers.

“IS THIS GOING TO BE A REGULAR THING IN THIS BLASTED TOWN?”

Ah yes, there is was. Alfred couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. “Municipal Power Plant 7427, this is Jones--"

“What is so damn funny, hm? Again my power is out, and I have some very delicate brews in the fridge that need to be preserved!” The voice huffed. “Not that someone like you would understand the importance of such things.”

“Sir, we are doing everything we can, but the generator broke down so just bear with us. It shouldn't be too much longer now.”

As if it had heard him, the generator roared to life, prompting Alfred to step outside so he could avoid the noise. “Now see? Just as I said--"

A loud crash from inside was accompanied by shouts and the sound of the generator sputtering to a stop. Well, shit. “--or maybe not.”

Alfred hated how smug the voice on the other end of the line sounded. “My my, so the stars were right...”

Rolling his eyes, Alfred went back to his seat inside. “Oh please, everyone knows your ‘psychic powers’ are faked. It's all a scam!”

“Is that so? Figures someone like you wouldn't be able to appreciate the finer arts of divination.”

“Then how about you read my fortune right now? Prove your skills.”

There was a short silence followed by the shuffling of some cards. “Very well. Hmm... ah... let's see here... the cards predict that you are about to receive many more angry phone calls.”

Alfred could just hear the sarcasm oozing from that voice. He decided that if this man was going to be that way, he could be snide too. “Tell me something I don't know, sweet cheeks.”

“I'm gay.”

“What?”

“What.”

The line went dead shortly after that, leaving Alfred in a stunned silence.

After another few months with no blackouts, Alfred couldn't stand it any longer. He absolutely had to meet the man behind that voice. The accent, the attitude, and the new knowledge that they had at least one thing in common was driving him insane. The guys at work only teased him after he'd confessed to falling for someone's voice alone.

With his first day off in a few weeks, Al decided that he couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed his keys and hopped into his truck, driving into town. The little shop wasn't too hard to find, seeing as it was one of the only places open on a Sunday morning out here. A little neon sign shaped like a hand with an eye on it was hanging in the window of what used to be an abandoned apartment building. At least someone is fixing it up now, though the smell from the sewer line beneath the building was as pungent as ever.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Alfred walked into the front room. A pleasant aroma greeted him as soon as he passed the threshold of the front door. There were a few candles lit inside of glass containers around the little waiting room. Two chairs sat against the far left wall next to a door that Alfred assumed was a bathroom or a coat closet. Even if he didn't exactly believe in this magic stuff, the atmosphere in here would really drive it home for most people.

Shelved lined the wall on his right, stocked with all manner of odd looking bottles. Lavender oil, mint oil, and many more were placed pristinely in a line. So that was what he meant by delicate mixtures in his fridge. Well that was something Alfred could believe in. His own mother used to rub lavender oil on his pillow when he woke from nightmares as a child. She said it was a special sleeping potion. It wasn't until he was older that he found out Lavender is meant to help relax you, which can put you to sleep easier.

The sound of an all to familiar voice clearing his throat caught Alfred's attention. What he saw had him short of breath himself, unable to speak.

The man across from him was about his height, with a mop of sandy blond hair and green eyes that seemed to glow in this lighting. His lithe frame was clothed in a green dress shirt and black slacks that hugged those hips in just the right way. To keep himself from staring too long, Alfred had to turn his attention back to the bottles. “Uh... “ He coughed and tried to regain his voice. “I-... um...”

“Are you here for a fortune, or do you require some oils? I would be glad to help you find what you desire.” Those green eyes met his again when Alfred turned to shake his hand. “I am Arthur Kirkland, local expert on divination and alchemy.”

“Arthur...” Alfred let go of his hand a little too quickly. “Uh, I'm Alfred. I was just comin in to-"

“To see if this is for real or not?” One of Arthur's rather impressive eyebrows rose at that. “Wait... I know that voice. You!”

Before he could say anything else, Arthur jabbed Alfred’s chest with his finger, his cheeks red, though whether it was from anger or embarrassment was anyone's guess. “You! You're that damn power worker from the phone! Calling me a fake! Come to rub it all in, have you? To degrade me?”

“Actually I--"

“Or is this about what I said? I-It was a joke, it just slipped out! If you're here to hurt me, I'll have you know I am trained in--"

“I'M HERE TO ASK YOU OUT!”

Alfred had no idea why he had even said that. It just slipped out because he was so in the moment. Shit. He should leave before this got ugly. “Sorry, I uh, I'll go...”

“Wait...” His sleeve was being held back by Arthur, who refused to meet Alfred's gaze. “I apologize, I... I shouldn't have shouted at you. T-The cards warned me that I could stand to control my temper lest I lose something important. I suppose they were right... blasted little buggers.”

“You know I still don't believe in that stuff...” Alfred began but he stopped himself, deciding instead to take Arthur's hand in his own. “How about you try to convince me over dinner tonight? I know a great place, though it's a bit of a drive to get there.”

Uncertainty shone in Arthur's eyes, but he eventually gave Alfred's hand a squeeze. “If you insist. I shall have to educate you if this is ever going to work out. You can pick me up at six, and not a minute later.”

Alfred smiled, his gaze never leaving Arthur's. Something about those eyes just drew him in. Like magic. That smirk on Arthur's lips drew his eyes as well.

“Let us hope fate keeps the power on tonight, hm?”


End file.
